


Me and You (At Best, At Best)

by ShowMeAHero



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, kind of, not that slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Matt walked into Bulletin Coffee, he had every intention of just getting his coffee and getting out of there. Looks like his life's got other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Me and You (At Best, At Best)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge shout-out to Emily, who was the driving force behind me completing this monster.
> 
> Title taken from "I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)" by Fall Out Boy.

The first time Matt walked into Bulletin Coffee, he had every intention of just getting his coffee and getting out of there. His usual place was closed today for whatever godforsaken reason, which drove him to the first coffee shop someone directed him towards. The bell over the door chimed as he entered, and he navigated his way through the displays and tables to make his way to the counter. Whoever was behind the counter whistled.

“Hello, handsome,” a man said, presumably the barista. Matt hesitated, and the man audibly cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Matt assured him. “I’m sorry, do you mind telling me what you have here for coffee?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” the man agreed, without hesitation. He had a lighthearted voice, just the right side of deep. It was nice to listen to, as he read the list of coffees that Matt presumed was posted behind the counter. “And we’re, like, free trade and everything. It all started in Rwanda or something. Organic, crop to cup. It’s great.”

“Sounds good,” Matt said. “Whatever you think is best, then.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Matt replied, smiling.

“Awesome.” The guy’s voice moved away from Matt. “It’s a dark roast. Is that cool?”

“That’s cool,” Matt assured him. He could hear the pour of coffee into a mug acutely, then the guy was quiet for a beat, like he was considering. Matt had gotten fairly adept at reading silences.

“Did you want a travel cup? I’m sorry,” the guy said, and Matt shook his head, even though that was a filthy lie. He just had some incentive to stick around, now.

“I’m fine,” Matt said. The man reached out, one hand guiding Matt’s hand to take the coffee mug. His hand lingered on Matt’s for a second before he pulled back, remembering himself. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Matt laughed. “Most people treat me like I’m made of glass. I hate that.”

“Yeah, you’re just a normal guy,” the guy agreed. “My name’s Foggy.”

“Foggy?” Matt asked, and the guy - _Foggy_ \- laughed.

“Trust me, my real name is worse,” Foggy promised him.

“What is it?”

“You have to unlock that level, buddy,” Foggy replied. “What’s yours?”

“My level?”

“Your name, pal.”

“Oh.” Matt readjusted his grip on the mug in his one hand, his cane in the other. “It’s Matthew.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Matthew,” Foggy replied, and he did sound genuinely pleased to meet him.

“Pleasure,” Matt agreed. “What do I owe you?”

“Your returned patronage,” Foggy answered, and Matt could hear the crystal-clear grin in his voice. He smiled a little.

“No, no-”

“Yes, yes,” Foggy cut him off. “We don’t have enough customers. Please keep coming back.”

Matt grinned. “You can count on it.”

“I am.”

Matt raised his mug, as if in a toast, and went to sit at a nearby table. He heard a woman whisper, “Real subtle,” from somewhere near Foggy behind the counter. Matt hid his smile behind the mug.

* * *

Matt ditched his old coffee place for Bulletin Coffee in seconds. He never even knew if his old regular place opened back up after that one day it was closed. He came back to Bulletin every day for the next two weeks, building up a rapport with Foggy, who worked behind the counter. He also met Karen, another barista who loved to talked to Matt about anything he cared to bring up, and Ben, the manager, who was very nice to Matt once they got to know each other a little bit more. He learned about Mr. and Mrs. Fisk, who Foggy hated, because they kept trying to buy the coffeehouse from Ben. Matt liked meeting the people that populated Foggy’s life.

Matt also liked how Foggy would get him to try something new each time, some new flavor shot, some new fair trade item they got directly from the rich soil of some random country, and how the coffee was slowly getting shaped to Matt’s tastes as Foggy deciphered what he did and did not like. What Matt really liked, though, was Foggy.

Matt’s phone chimed “Wade, Wade, Wade,” as he entered the coffeehouse, which seemed louder and more crowded than normal. Matt ignored the call, tucked his phone away, and made his way up to the counter.

“Hey-”

“Dude, if you’re here about the sign, just let me live, man, my coworker’s a jackass and she thinks she’s funny but I am _so_ not into- Matt,” Foggy cut himself off, and Matt was already grinning ear-to-ear.

“What sign?” Matt asked, and Foggy sighed loudly.

“No sign, man, no worries, there’s no sign,” Foggy declared, obviously lying, his voice raised. Matt heard Karen scoff.

“Is the sign why it’s so busy in here today?” Matt heard Foggy’s head make contact with the countertop. “Foggy?”

“I actually hate my life,” Foggy groaned, his voice muffled by the counter. “I’m going to make you a coffee now, and you’re going to sit down, and you’re going to pretend I didn’t say a goddamn word.”

“But-”

“Not a goddamn _word_ , Matt Murdock, or I’ll start drawing dicks on your mugs and you won’t know and you’ll be the laughingstock of this place.”

Matt grinned. “I’ll be at my table, then. Making no noise and pretending I don’t exist.”

“You better be,” Foggy grumbled lightheartedly, moving away from the counter. Matt steered himself to his usual table to wait for Foggy or Karen to bring his coffee over. He listened to the other people in the shop, some sitting and gossiping, some playing music, some laughing. He heard the bell over the door ring, and someone made their way up to the counter.

“Hey, welcome to Bulletin Coffee, how can I help you?” Foggy asked, his voice far away. Matt strained to listen, like he always did.

“I heard you’re looking for some action,” a man’s voice said, and there was a clatter as, presumably, Foggy dropped whatever was in his hand. Probably Matt’s coffee.

“Jesus Christ, dude,” Foggy snapped. “That’s the worst line today. Karen! Take this guy’s order, I’m not fucking with this anymore.”

“Hey,” a guy’s voice asked, closer now, and Foggy exhaled sharply, his voice also a little closer. “I saw the sign. What’s your sign?”

Matt’s hands curled into fists inexplicably. Well, it _was_ explicable, if he thought about it, but he preferred not to think too much about it. What the fuck was _happening_?

“Jesus Christ,” Foggy huffed, his voice moving past Matt’s table quickly. Matt’s head turned as if to follow him before he heard someone drop into the chair opposite him at his little table.

“ _Hola, ¿Cómo te va?_ ” Elena’s voice asked, and Matt smiled slightly.

“ _Así-así, ¿Cómo te va?_ ” Matt replied, and he could almost hear Elena smiled in return.

“Very good, _mijo_ ,” Elena said, and Matt heard heels against the floor coming towards him. He turned his head again, and a mug was placed between his clenched hands. He loosened them out of the fists he had not realized he was making.

“Sorry about the wait,” Karen apologized. “Foggy said you should like this one.”

“Where’d he go?” Matt asked, and Karen sighed.

“He’s mad at me,” Karen admitted. “He told me not to tell you why.”

“Why’s he mad?”

“Because,” Karen said, breaking immediately, dragging a chair over to their table and sitting down. Matt fleetingly wondered who was manning the counter. “Because he’s so sad and so single and he just needs to be with someone, you know? He’s one of those guys who you can’t waste, so, I wrote a little advertisement on the board outside the shop.”

“What’s it say?” Matt asked when Karen did not immediately divulge the information. Karen leaned in conspiratorially, her breath coming closer, and Matt heard Elena move, as well, so he tipped his head in to join them.

“It says, ‘Today, your barista is: 1. Hella fucking gay, 2. Desperately single. For your drink today, I recommend: you give me your number,’” Karen whispered, and Elena started laughing. Matt chuckled, leaning back. It was funny, but Foggy did not bring his coffee and men were coming up and _flirting_ with Foggy and-

“You should try him, Matthew,” Elena suggested, and Karen sounded like she almost fell out of her chair from sudden, joyous laughter. Matt buried his face in his coffee.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmured before taking a sip of the best coffee Foggy had made so far. He forced down the feeling of contentment and the oddest surge of lust that arose at that. He preferred it to be inexplicable.

Foggy eventually came back out, returning to his place at the counter. Matt could only handle forty-five minutes of men coming in and flirting with Foggy, their lines getting dirtier and dirtier, before he could not take it anymore, and he just left, angry and doubtful of himself and more than a little jealous.

* * *

A couple days after the sign debacle, which Foggy immediately realized Matt knew about and so he groaned loudly every time Karen was in earshot, Foggy took his lunch break at the same time Matt came in.

“How are you today, my beautiful mole man?” Foggy asked, placing a mug and something in a wrapper down in front of Matt at his table. Matt patted the tabletop until he found and opened the wrapper, feeling out a cookie. Matt fucking _loved_ when Foggy made the cookies.

“A little stressed,” Matt admitted. Foggy made a sympathetic noise, then inhaled sharply, almost like a gasp. Matt tilted his head. “What?”

“I just realized I have no idea what you do,” Foggy laughed. “What the hell is your job?”

“Oh, I work at Landman and Zack down the street. I’m a lawyer,” Matt informed him, and Foggy laughed again.

“Dude, I go to law school.”

Matt was quiet for a moment. Then, “You go to law school?”

“Yeah, I know. Dumb barista, never seems to leave here, can’t even manage to get most orders right. But, yeah. Law school. This is a part-time job; between classes, and internships, I just-” Foggy paused suddenly. “Landman and Zack?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Do you know Marci Stahl?” Foggy asked, and Matt furrowed his brow.

“Her name sounds familiar. Why, are you friends?” Matt asked. Foggy hesitated. Matt’s heart sank.

“Yeah,” Foggy finally answered. “You should tell her I said hello.” Foggy was quiet for another moment. “So, what’s got you stressed, lawman?”

Matt launched into the story of the case he was on right now, an older man who was suffering from the aftereffects of working in a factory, and tried to ignore the terrible feeling he had.

* * *

Matt looked Marci up on Landman and Zack’s database as soon as he got back to work after his lunch break, reading out the office number that popped up on his refreshable Braille display and taking off for the floor she was supposedly on. He hung around the break room on that floor, once he found it, and waited. He realized too late that he had no way to recognize Marci, but he lucked out when a few people came in at once and one of them called another one Marci while Matt was pretending to look busy at the copier.

“Marci?” Matt asked, like this was all just a coincidence. “Marci Stahl?”

The group of people stopped conversing, and then a woman’s voice said, “Yes?”

“I’m Matt Murdock,” Matt answered. There was silence for a moment. “I’m a friend of Foggy Nelson. He mentioned you, said to tell you he said hello.”

Marci came a little closer to him. “So, you’re the Matt Murdock I’ve heard so much about,” she said, and it sounded like she was grinning. She must have motioned to the other people she was with, because it sounded like they all left at once. “What can I help you with, Matt?”

“Nothing,” Matt lied. “Just wanted to say hi, I recognized your name.”

“Foggy’s told me a lot about you,” Marci said, ignoring him. She led Matt over to a series of stiff armchairs. “Did he tell you anything about me?”

“Just that you’re friends,” Matt replied, and that was the truth, even if Matt could read in Foggy’s voice that there was something else. Probably something more.

“Foggy and I aren’t just friends,” Marci said to him at once, like a confession that she could not wait to give up. “To be honest, though, I don’t think we’re really the same speed. He’s very…”

A dozen different adjectives shot through Matt’s head, but he kept quiet. Marci hummed as she thought.

“...Odd,” she finally settled on. “Foggy’s odd. He wanted to be a butcher, then he went to law school. He couldn’t afford law school, so, he took on, like, eight jobs. The man has focus like no one I’ve ever seen, but he’s so…” She hummed again. “I don’t know. Like I said, we’re not the same speed. He’s a soulful man.”

“Soulful?” Matt asked, and Marci laughed, high like a bell.

“He’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong,” Marci assured him. “Am I a reference? Is Karen next?”

“A reference? I-”

“Look, Foggy and I are very different people, but the man is dynamite,” Marci whispered, and this time, it felt more like a secret, albeit a badly-kept one. “I’ve never had sex with anyone like I did with him-”

“Holy _shit_ -”

“He’s honestly the best sex I’ve ever had, you should date him for that _alone_ , if nothing else is tickling your fancy, though I honestly don’t see why nothing else would,” Marci continued like Matt had not just sputtered and embarrassed himself. He could feel his face heating up of its own accord.

“I didn’t come for _references_ ,” Matt finally managed to say. Marci’s fingernails were sharp against his arm.

“What did you come for?”

_“To say hello.”_

“No, you didn’t,” Marci argued. “I’m not dating him, Matt Murdock. He’s fair game to you. Make your move.”

Then, Marci was gone, just like that. Matt sighed, sank into the scratchy armchair, and tried not to think about having sex with Foggy. He failed miserably.

* * *

Matt came in the next day with every intention to _make his move,_ he really did. But he had always been a little emotionally stunted (okay, maybe more than a _little_ , but denial is, like, number two on the list of things Matt cannot help but participate in, right after some good old-fashioned Catholic guilt). So, he did what he did best as of late: angsted at his regular table.

The angsting of the entire next week was different than his usual particular brand of angst. He still laughed with Foggy, joked with him and asked him about his day, talked to him when Foggy’s break coincided with Matt’s arrival, but now it all had the shadow of _pining_ cast over it. He sat there and nodded while Foggy talked; he smiled in the right places, made comments, shared stories from his own life, but, the whole time, all he could think about was how Karen talked about how great Foggy was _all the time_ , and how guys still came in and flirted with him, and how apparently hot and good at sex he was, according to Marci, and there was _no way_ Matt - a blind corporate sellout who had no idea what he wanted, be it a coffee or a significant other - stood a chance with this guy.

Karen was sitting across from Matt today, because Foggy had already taken his break that morning, apparently nursing a “killer hangover, man, seriously, you’re lucky you don’t get the spins,” and Foggy had accidentally whacked his hand on the register laughing when Matt told him that he did, unfortunately, get the spins, and usually tipped over. Now, Karen was talking about Foggy, like she usually was, spinning some yarn for Matt about the night before, when they went out drinking to the bar right across the street, Josie’s.

“And he leans over the counter to grab a new bottle from underneath it, and he topples right over to the other side, and he almost knocks Josie over-” Karen cut herself off, laughing too hard to continue. Matt smiled.

“It sounds like he earned his hangover,” Matt offered, and Karen calmed herself down enough to agree.

“Definitely, definitely.” The sound of Karen picking up her coffee mug reached Matt’s ears.

“So,” Matt started, deciding to bite the bullet, “how long have you two been together?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know,” Karen answered, and Matt’s heart sank down to the bottom of his stomach. He put his coffee mug back down on the table. “I’ve been working here for… three years? And that’s how we met. And then we moved into an apartment, like, a year ago? Because we’re both poor assholes.”

“He should tie you down before you realize you’re too good for him,” Matt joked, but it sounded forced and strained even to his own ears. Karen fell silent. Matt heard her put her mug back down.

“Matt, what the hell are you talking about?” Karen finally asked. Matt traced the handle of his mug with his fingertip. He could feel her eyes burning holes into him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Matt stopped, cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you didn’t want anyone to know. I’m sorry.”

“Know what?” Karen asked, then continued before Matt could speak, “Matt, there’s nothing going on between me and Foggy.”

Matt lifted his head. “What?”

Karen laughed once. “We’re just friends. I mean, we tried something once, like, when we first met, but it didn’t really work out.”

“But- You live together-”

“Have you never had a roommate?” Karen asked, and Matt could feel his face grow hot. He ducked it again, turning his face in the direction of the tabletop under his clenched hands. Something touched his hand out of nowhere, and he startled before realizing it was Karen’s soft, thin hand, smoothing out his frustrated fists.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing,” Karen interrupted. “I’m not upset. Well, not for me. I’m upset for you, I guess, you poor thing.”

“I’m fine,” Matt replied automatically. He frowned. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Maybe,” Karen began, leaning in and lowering her voice enough that Matt had to lean in, too, if he wanted to hear her, “Maybe, you should take the hints that are slapping you in the face.”

“I don’t-”

“Matt.”

“Can I finish a sentence?” Matt joked tensely. Karen was quiet. “I don’t know what you mean. I don’t- You’re always- Foggy is _always_ -”

“Apparently, you _can’t_ finish a sentence.” Karen wrapped her hands around Matt’s. “I say, go for it.”

“Go for what?” Matt asked. He could almost hear Karen roll her eyes at him.

“Don’t play dumb, Murdock. It’s unflattering, and you need all the help you can get if you’re going to pull this off,” Karen teased. Matt squeezed her hands, then pulled back to wrap his fingers around his coffee mug. He took a sip, grounding himself.

“Pull what off?”

“Matt, please, what did I just say?” Karen paused for a moment. “Don’t worry. I can help you.” Matt heard her start tapping on her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Consulting WikiHow,” she answered, before beginning to read aloud from the article.

* * *

Matt sat at his normal table, trying to look like he was not listening to Foggy and Karen hissing back and forth to each other just under the sound of the coffee machines. Eventually, Foggy’s voice won out, and Karen made her way over to Matt, who was still attempting desperately to look like he was not paying attention.

“I know he’s interested,” Karen murmured softly to him, and Matt could have very confidently walked into traffic just from hearing those words, “but I told him I wanted to set him up on a blind date, but I laughed, and now he knows it’s you, and he’s convinced you’re not interested and that I’m just messing with him.” Karen sighed heavily and fell back in her chair across from him. “I don’t know what to do. WikiHow didn’t prepare me for this.”

Matt’s heartbeat was like a drum in his chest. He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Are you _sure?_ ”

“Of what?”

“Are you sure that he’s interested?” Matt clarified, and Karen was quiet. “In me?”

“Yeah, Matt,” Karen answered softly. “I’m one-hundred-percent sure. Why?”

Matt stood, grabbing his cane where it was leaning against the table, his chair screeching back on the tiled floor. “Because I can handle it from here.”

Matt made his way back up to the counter, the cane barely even necessary at this point with how many times he had made the circuit. Foggy noticed him in a second.

“Oh, hey, Matt. Was the coffee good? I-”

Matt reached out a little lower than Foggy’s voice, got a fistful of his apron, and used that as leverage to haul Foggy halfway across the counter so their mouths could meet. Foggy was startled, trying to keep his balance with one hand gripping the register and the other scrabbling against the counter, knocking over the tip jar and sending all the coins and bills to the floor. He finally managed to steady himself, and his hands came up, one palm flat on the counter, the other cupping the back of Matt’s head, holding them together. He tilted his head, just slightly, and Matt almost broke his glasses ripping them off to get the angle right without the frames digging into their faces. Foggy sighed into his mouth, and Matt pulled back to take a breath, leaving a centimeter between them, at most.

“Coffee’s good,” Foggy commented breathlessly. Matt laughed, knocking their foreheads together. “Better through you. I don’t remember strawberry, though. Do you use lip gloss? Beautiful, very sparkly.”

“I hate you,” Matt murmured against Foggy’s mouth. He could feel Foggy grin, and his fingertips started feeling along his face, seeking out his features. Foggy let him, resting his elbows on the counter so he could stay in place for Matt.

“Actually, you very obviously _don’t_ hate me,” Foggy countered. “Took you long enough, Murdock, by the way.”

“You’re one to talk.” Matt abandoned exploring Foggy’s face with his hands to kiss him again, not letting go until he got tapped on the shoulder by a disgruntled teenage boy.

* * *

“Murdock and Nelson, attorneys at law!” Foggy announced, still doodling on a napkin at Matt’s usual table. Matt shook his head.

“No,” Matt disagreed. “Nelson and Murdock sounds better, I think.”

“Maybe Murdock and Murdock.”

Matt waited before answering so his voice would not break. “Not Nelson and Nelson?”

Foggy made a noncommittal noise. “You’ve got some alliteration going on already. Matt Murdock. Foggy Murdock makes me sound like a superhero, anyways.”

“Or a stripper.”

“You know what? Matt Nelson does sound much better, you dick.”

“That’s the worst proposal I’ve ever heard.”

Foggy was silent. Matt waited. Foggy reached out and let their hands brush before he opened Matt’s fingers, slipping the napkin into his palm. Matt smoothed his fingertips over the letters, feeling the indents, reading the words.

“Murdock and Murdock,” Matt murmured, running his fingers over it and over it.

“Got a nice ring to it.” Foggy added a packet of sugar to Matt’s coffee, and Matt smiled.

“Yeah, it does,” Matt agreed.

“Someday,” Foggy announced, and Matt groaned dramatically, leaning back in his chair.

“Here we go,” Matt complained, and he could feel that Foggy was pointing right in his face.

“You keep your trap shut, Murdock, and let me paint a picture for you.” Foggy shifted in his seat. “Someday, I’ll graduate law school, and I’ll leave this place, and you’ll leave Landman and Zack, and we’ll start our own firm-”

“Murdock and Murdock.”

“Right, Murdock and Murdock, and we’ll get a nice house, with a room over the garage where Karen can grow old, and we’ll get you a nice dog, and we’ll have some nice kids, and we’ll get old and die and haunt Hell’s Kitchen together for a thousand years. It’ll be great, Matty.”

Matt ran his fingers over the pen-pressed indents on the napkin again, ingraining the feel of _Murdock and Murdock_ under his hands.

“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “Yeah, it will be.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Matt gets a call from "Wade" (Wade Wilson), and the teenager is Peter Parker. Team Red ftw.
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's the sign!](http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbevvfUw0O1qduyeio1_500.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's the place near me that this coffee house is based on!](http://bourboncoffeeusa.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's Karen's WikiHow article!](http://www.wikihow.com/Be-a-Good-Matchmaker)
> 
>  
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
